From Hell
by Queen Eli
Summary: (based off the movie "From Hell") After a string of brutal homicides mimicking Jack the Ripper sweep the city, immortal detective Luck Gandor is called to investigate alongside Dallas Genoard, a former thug who claims to dream the answers to difficult or cold cases. Co-written by GremlinGirl
1. A New Case

Tucked away in a small, cozy apartment in the heart of New York City, lived a man named Luck Gandor. Many, many decades ago, in the 1930's, he was the leader of a small but powerful Mafia family, but once the illegal booze and gambling industry collapsed, he and his brothers turned to a more legal way of making a living. They had all become private investigators around the eighties, and had kept a steady stream of money coming in, just enough to keep them comfortable in their respective homes and apartments. Right now, however, Luck was taking a much needed break from investigating, sitting in his recliner in his pajamas with his feet propped up on the coffee table, currently immersed in trying to figure out a crossword puzzle from a book he'd picked up in a nearby gas station to curb his boredom.

He'd just finished a particularly difficult case for a young lady who'd watched her parents get murdered, and it wasn't pretty. It had been very dangerous, and had he not been immortal, he most likely would have gotten himself killed. He, his brothers, and a few of his friends had become immortals by complete accident back in the thirties, and ever since then, Luck had used to to his advantage.

But. There was a downside to this immortality. Besides watching all of his mortal friends grow old and die, Luck had also lost his lust for life that he'd used to have. In a sense, even though he couldn't die, he was dead inside, too detached from reality to bother doing anything outside of his job. Although he still had his immortal friends, Luck didn't talk to them too much, besides his very close friend Firo, and his brothers. And he had no lover to speak of; Keith and Berga had both gotten married decades ago, and even Firo had finally tied the knot with Ennis around the time he'd turned to investigation, but Luck remained alone. He had nothing to _give_ to a spouse, anyway, he told himself. And with his job, he'd probably be gone a lot, too much to hold up a relationship.

His next case was going to bring about a change to that, though, he wasn't aware of it yet. Luck may have been an immortal, but he was no psychic.

Just as he was filling in the final empty boxes of the crossword puzzle, the home phone next to him began to ring incessantly. Sighing deeply, Luck picked it up from its receiver, holding the phone to his ear. It was the number of one of his co-investigators, Maiza Avaro, and Luck's eyes narrowed. This had better be important, to interrupt him while he was supposed to be off of work.

"Yes, this is Luck Gandor speaking," he muttered drowsily, curling the phone cord around his finger.

"Hello, Luck," Maiza's voice replied from the other line, sounding slightly on edge and worried. "I know you're off work, but I promise this is important. There's been a killing."

"There are always killings in this city, please tell me what else is new."

"This isn't normal, Luck. It's the way that it's been done. That's why I called you."

"Well, tell me what happened, then."

"Are you familiar with Jack the Ripper?" Luck let out a breathy sound that was a mix of a huff and a laugh.

"You _do_ know who you're talking to, right?"

"Just making sure. And it's like that, Luck. It's a woman, a prostitute to be exact, possibly around her late teens, early twenties. She's been killed, and is missing a certain body part." Luck inhaled sharply, then exhaled slowly, leaning back in his recliner. It creaked wearily.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Well, a case of this caliber required an investigator of your talent."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mister Avaro."

"And I believe that you're the only one out of all of the investigators I know who can solve this case."

Luck sighed heavily again, kinking the cord in his fingers. Sure, he _was_ supposed to be on vacation, and he _had_ just finished a difficult case, but. He was getting bored, like a police dog who'd been kept inside for too long. He was aching to use his brain for more than filling in puzzles, to have some kind of motive when he walked down the streets, to have a scent that he needed to follow. And it wasn't like he didn't have _time_. He had an eternity.

"Tell me where to meet you."


	2. Examination

Luck tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat as he walked down the short alley way. Up ahead, he could see the small team of investigators moving around in the area of the crime scene. Standing against the wall, he identified the man he'd come to speak to. In a few more strides, he'd brought himself to the man's side.

"Maiza," he greeted. His eyes swept over the scene before him.

"Luck, thank you for coming." the older man said. "This one has me completely baffled. Why someone would do this… I just don't know."

Luck stepped forward, walking past the other investigators to take a look at the body. Upon seeing the mutilated carcass he realized exactly why Maiza was uncertain about the ability of another human being to inflict this sort of damage. He himself had read detailed descriptions of the killings, but seeing it in real life seemed to make it twenty times worse.

The woman's throat was slit and her lower regions were torn. He let his eyes graze the ground beside her, seeing nothing but blood on first inspection. Her eyes were still open, glazed and staring up at the sky without seeing anything. Her hands were covered in blood also, clenched tightly. Her arms were twisted around oddly. Luck winced slightly. Her death hadn't been painless.

Maiza cleared his throat, catching the other man's attention again. "Luck, we have to hurry. There's a storm brewing up and if it hits, we'll lose all the evidence we haven't collected."

Luck spared a look upward. He could just make out a few clouds drifting in to cover the few stars that were visible in the New York sky. He let out a sigh before grabbing the pair of latex gloves that were offered to him. Carefully, he bent down beside the body to start a closer examination of it.

Tilting her chin slightly, he examined the wound in her neck. It was deep and jagged. It seemed she'd most likely been fighting when the assailant had done it. She hadn't gone down easily. Luck frowned, lifting one of her hands off the ground. It was clenched tightly around something. Almost like she'd grabbed it in her struggle to live. He looked more closely and found a few strands of hair were sticking out between her fingers.

Luck dropped her hand and stood. "She definitely wanted to live. She yanked some of the guy's hair out. You might want to collect it. Might be some DNA." He looked at Maiza as two of the crime scene investigators started to do as he said. He walked over to the other and watched them.

"Is that all you got from her?"

"Well," Luck paused, examining the scene from where he stood for a few seconds. "Whoever did this was clean. They weren't an amateur. They've tortured before. But, this is the first time they've done this type of torture. And I don't think they were altogether prepared for her to fight as hard as she did."

Maiza was quiet, considering his words. He stared the body as the others started to pack everything up. There was a roll of thunder in the distance and he yelled, "Hurry and get her in a body bag. I don't want to lose anything we might be able to salvage later."

Luck turned and started to walk away, brain gnawing at the mystery. He made his way up the alley towards where he parked his car. As he moved away from the crime scene, he heard Maiza behind him.

"Wait, Luck!" he called. "Does this mean you're taking the case for sure?"

He paused and looked back at the older man as the sky was lit up with the first lightning strikes. "Yeah, I'm on the case." Luck said, putting his hands back in his pockets.

"We'll find this guy."

"Yeah." Luck moved out of the way as the investigators brought the body out in the polyester bag. He watched them all go after clearing the crime scene. "But, I think there might be a problem."

"What do you mean? What problem?"

"This guy… No, this monster, isn't going to stop. He's going to keep killing. The way he did it, I can tell he gets some sick satisfaction out of it. If we don't stop him, then he'll keep killing. And the more he kills…"

"The better at it he'll be…" Maiza continued. He nodded in understanding. "See this is why I wanted you on the case. You have the best insight of any detective I've ever met."

"And we both know why that is…"

The two shared one last look, the look of two immortals who had both lived far past their natural time, before Luck turned again and walked out of the alley. He would continue to think on the case at home in peace.

* * *

**This chapter was written by GremlinGirl**


	3. Visions

Paste your document here...

**Chapter Three: Visions**

Although he was by no means an extraordinary man, Dallas Genoard possessed an extraordinary talent. It was one that he didn't fully discover until after he became a full immortal, and he often wondered if it was the reason why he'd developed the talent. The first time it happened, he'd just roused himself from a deep sleep back in 1963, and had stumbled into the main room of the swanky penthouse he and his sister stayed in when they visited New York City. His sister, Eve Genoard, was sitting with a worried expression on the couch in front of the T.V., her brows furrowed together and her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Still a bit drowsy, Dallas made his way over to her, taking his place on the couch beside her. On the T.V., a woman with her elaborately curled hairdo was talking about a killing spree that had taken place in a bank nearby, and Dallas rolled his shoulders.

"What're you watchin' this sh—crap for, Eve?" Dallas asked, doing his best to keep from cursing in front of her, as he knew how she hated it. She smiled at his attempt, but it faded as she looked back at the screen.

"It was on when I came down. I kind of got sucked into watching, I guess," she replied, reaching for the remote, but Dallas stopped her, gently placing his hand over hers. He was staring intently at the T.V. now, his eyes narrowed and focused, before he closed them.

"They said the guy who did it didn't take any money, right?" Dallas asked first, before continuing. "Just killed a whole buncha' people an' left? He must be someone with money."

"Why do you think that?" Eve asked him, curious.

"Because, he wasn't goin' in to get money, he jus' wanted the thrill of the kill," Dallas explained. "If it'd been a robbery gone wrong, he wouldn'ta' killed everyone." He paused again, only opening his eyes and breaking his silence when he'd mustered the courage to say: "I had a dream last night where I was this guy. I know you don't have any reason ta' believe that, but it's true."

"I believe you," Eve reassured him, grasping his much larger hand gently in her own tiny one.

The next day, the killer was caught, and Dallas's statements had been confirmed, as the killer was a highly influential millionaire. When asked why he did it, the killer laughed and said;

"The thrill of the kill!"

* * *

The year was now 2001, and the visions came again. Perturbed by the horrific nightmares, and knowing that they must have something to do with something going on in the city, Dallas marched himself down to the police station (though he really, _really_ didn't want to) and had himself a talk with the head investigator of that particular squad.

"You do know how incredulous your statements seem, Mister Genoard," the  
man, Maiza Avaro told him, peering at him from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "Correct?"

"Yeah, I know," Dallas replied, clenching his hands together tightly as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He'd actually worn one of his good suits today for the first time in a long time, as he knew that he had to make a good impression. "That's why I'm—uh—willing to show you what I can do." Maiza raised an eyebrow curiously, and sat up a bit in his seat.

"Alright. You said you'd come to talk to me about a recent string of killings, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me about them."

Inhaling deeply, Dallas closed his eyes and remembered, vividly, the dreams that he'd been having, and his eyebrows knitted together. His words came out in a much deeper tone than he usually spoke in, the syntax and wording much different than how he would usually speak. "…they're mimicking Jack the Ripper, so far. They've all taken place late at night or early morning in red light districts, all against confirmed young female prostitutes. The killer usually slits their throat to kill them, and then removes their uterus, but that is the only thing taken. No money or valuable objects are taken from the bodies. It makes me believe that the killer already has money and he's only doing this for the fun of it. He's also educated in dissection." Finishing his spiel, Dallas exhaled heavily again, opening his eyes to look at Maiza. The man was staring at him in disbelief, his eyes wide open.

"Those details haven't even been released to the public yet…how did you…"

"I told you, the dreams," Dallas repeated, finally looking Maiza in the eye. "So, am I on the case, or what?"

"Well, you are, but since you have no license, you won't be working alone. You'll be working with the lead detective on this case."

"And that is?"

"…you'll meet him tomorrow."

* * *

Meanwhile, later that night, Luck received a second call from Maiza.

"Any new developments?" He asked at first, and Maiza sighed a bit into the phone.

"Well…kind of. We have a new guy working on the case."

"Oh? Who?"

"You'll meet him tomorrow, but he'll be working with you. I'd prefer for you not to protest, alright? We need for this to go as smoothly as possible." Luck hesitated, wanting to say something, before Maiza spoke again; "I'm only doing this because I trust you."

"Alright, alright. Where are we meeting tomorrow?"


	4. Partners

Hands were beautiful pieces of machinery. They could do so many things. Some could create art, build skyscrapers, amazing technological devices, and create masterful weapons. Hands were the most important part of the body, in his mind. However, his hands were not made for creating. No, they were designed for something so much more complex and beautiful. Torture and murder.

Even now, his hands were doing what he loved most in the world. The girl he had pinned to the cold ground tried to scream, but he clamped his hand down over her mouth to stop the sound from pouring from her throat. He smiled insanely at her, holding the knife against her throat threateningly. Her eyes widened, and she started struggling even harder.

The murderer pulled the rag he had out of his pocket and gagged her. He pinned her hands above her head with one of his. He could just kill her now, but he enjoyed the terrified look on her pretty face. He loved the fact that he was the cause of it. He could have hours upon hours of fun with this one.

However, the night was quickly disappearing, so he had to wrap it up before someone discovered him. He wasn't planning on being arrested anytime soon. That would ruin his plans completely.

So, with this in mind, he used his talented hands to run the jagged knife across her throat in one swift motion. He watched with pure fascination as the blood poured out and over her scantily clad chest onto the concrete below her. Her blue eyes clouded over, life draining from them with each passing second. He waited until the prostitute was dead, lying limply on the ground before setting to work with the rest of his mission.

After removing certain body parts as the man he was copying had done so many years before, the man stood up, packing everything into the bag he'd stashed a few feet away. His hands were still red with the blood of his victim, but he didn't care. He slung the bag over his shoulder and carefully made his way out of the alley, just as the first rays of the sun started peaking over the horizon, and the city seemingly came back to life.

Several hours later, Luck found himself at the crime scene, staring down at the body. He winced slightly at the girl's nails; they were a bloody mess from scratching the concrete trying to get some traction to escape her brutal assailant. He looked the body over for anything out of place, anything that could point him in the direction of the killer.

As he stood, his eyes focused on the mouth of the alley where two men were walking up towards the crime scene. He'd agreed to meet with Maiza and his new partner at the crime scene today after he'd found out about the murder. It was the fourth one in a month and so far there were no new leads. If the present day killer had any differences from Jack the Ripper, it was his frequency.

Luck approached the men as they came down the short alleyway, but paused when the second man came close enough for him to see his face. Then, with an angry expression set on his face, he sped up straight towards the man.

"Genoard!" He shouted, catching the man's full attention.

A similar look came over his face. "Gandor!"

Maiza stared back and forth between them as they came to a standstill in the middle of the alley, seemingly trying to stare each other down. "I guess you two know each other somehow?"

Neither answered him as they glared at each other. Finally, Luck spoke. "I put you at the bottom of the river for a reason, you _thug_. How the hell did you get out?"

"You underestimated us, _Gandor_. We're smarter than you gave us credit for."

"How are you even here? You don't have full immortality," he whispered so the others couldn't hear him.

"I got my hands on a bit of the true elixir. Now I'm back and better than ever."

Luck glanced over at Maiza who was listening to their exchange. "Listen, Avaro. I can't work with this guy. He tried to kill me and my brothers back in the thirties."

"And I won't work with him either." Dallas chimed in.

It looked like the two men would start bickering again, so Maiza stepped in to silence the two. "Both of you get over yourselves. There is a monster prowling the city, killing these girls, and you want to let something that happened over seventy years ago get in the way of solving the case? I have a good feeling about you two working together. I think you two can solve this. But if you won't work together, what hope is there? Can't you just put the bad blood aside for now and solve the case? Then you can go back to hating each other after it's done."

Luck and Dallas stared at each other for a moment that seemingly stretched for a long time. Eventually, Luck conceded. "Okay, I'll try to work with him."

Dallas agreed, so Maiza explained to Luck about Dallas's ability. Naturally Luck didn't believe him at first, but hesitantly started when Dallas spewed a bit more information about the most recent killing that he hadn't even told Maiza. What struck Luck as most odd was the way he told the details. It wasn't like he was seeing the body, or even watching the murderer do it. It was more like he was the one doing the killing. The man found it a little unsettling, but chose not to say anything.

He still wasn't sure if he was going to be able to work with the Genoard, but he would try if only because Maiza asked him to. He had a lot of respect for the older immortal, and would do pretty much anything for him. Still, Luck had an odd feeling about the man. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he couldn't shake it, even as they started investigating the body together. It wasn't exactly a negative feeling, but it still made him slightly nervous. He wasn't sure what might come with the association with his former enemy.

**This chapter was written by GremlinGirl.**


End file.
